


Our Veins

by chwangdol



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Bodyguard Romance, M/M, Mob Boss Jean-Jacques Leroy, Open Relationships, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-06 11:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10334105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chwangdol/pseuds/chwangdol
Summary: Otabek came to Montreal for a job. He ends up getting a lot more.JJotayuri Mob AU with an emphasis on the Otayuri.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't enough fic for these three. I wrote most of this three months ago, but inspiration just recently struck to help me finish it. This is a mob au, so it's going to be pretty dark.

Driving a getaway car wasn’t the most respectful way to make a living, but it definitely beat smashing up shops for an old man to pay your arrogant “gang leader” half of his income. There were worse things he could be doing. Worse things he’d already done, and judging by how hard it was to leave this life he guessed he’d probably do worse.

Killing a man wasn’t as traumatizing as he thought it’d be. Maybe it was because the man had been faceless, a mask covering his identity when he shot him in the chest. He didn’t even see the body hit the floor before he was running away, preparing to shoot again if he needed to.

He needed money. He needed to pay his mom’s hospital bills. And then he needed to give her a respectful funeral. And then what he was supposed to do? Living as a poor man in the shittiest part of Almaty wasn’t a good way to carry out his family’s legacy. They were gone, but he still had so much to prove to them.

He didn’t want to disappoint them. Or was it himself now? Either way. This way of life, the killing, the fast cars, the fake passports, it was keeping him alive, well fed, and with a purpose.

“You must have really impressed someone for the boss to request you himself,” the man in the passenger’s seat tears him away from his thoughts, “JJ’s usually only pulling guys from his own teams for jobs this important.”

Otabek shrugs. He’d never met the famous Canadian mob boss, and it had been a complete surprise when men in suits had come to his apartment in Almaty, offering him a job in Montreal as the bodyguard of who they called “JJ’s boy.”

Otabek’s emotions had flashed from terrified to confused. At least they weren’t government like he had initially thought, but he’d only ever heard about this “JJ,” never met him in person or worked with any of his men to his knowing.

They never disclosed how they had found him, which made Otabek uneasy, and he still hadn’t met the boss, but the job was good enough that Otabek left all those shortcomings out of his final decision.

And so that’s how he ended up in the backseat of a nice, heavily tinted car, driving through Old Montreal to the penthouse where “JJ’s boy,” as they had called him lived. The relationship had been explained to him quite simply. JJ was married, to the beautiful ex-model now designer Isabella Yang, but he also had a thing for pretty boys, and that’s where this guy fit in. Yuri Plisetsky. A young Russian man who JJ was currently in a relationship with.

Apparently their relationship had become more well-known around the criminal underworld, so JJ had demanded a bodyguard for the guy. And for some reason Otabek had been requested.

The car stops, and Otabek looks up at the building. It was a new development in the historical area, mixing contemporary styling with the aesthetic of the rest of the neighborhood.

It was nice enough to have a doorman, which Otabek wasn’t surprised by. He greets them politely, and Otabek nods back at him before following the two suited men to the elevator.

He hadn’t dressed up as nicely for his first day of work, but he had also just been picked up from the airport, and he wasn’t too keen on flying in a suit.

The elevator had no music, just a quiet hum as it climbed up to the top floor. There was only one door and the top floor, and a call box next to it.

The taller man presses the button and introduces himself into the microphone and then they wait.

Otabek hears the sound of heavy locks and some electric beeps before the door is finally opened. When Otabek sees the tall, lean man with long blonde hair and emerald eyes he can see why even a “straight” man would fall for him. He was gorgeous, in a terrifying and belittling sort of way.

His small frame seemed oddly powerful, and his eyes were piercing and strong. It felt like someone was looking into his soul when those eyes fell on him.

“Come in,” he tells them and walks back into the apartment himself.

He doesn’t offer them a place to sit, only makes sure they shut the door and are in a little more open of a space before turning around and looking Otabek up and down.

The suited men speak for him, “His name is Otabek Atlin, sir. The Boss informs us he’s very capable and that you should feel very safe with him around.”

Yuri nods and then addresses him, “Do you like cats?” he asks, and Otabek notices a large ragdoll coming from the living room to rub itself against Yuri’s ankles.

“I don’t have a problem with them,” he answers, silently cursing himself when he realizes he leaves off the “sir,” his new coworkers had added when speaking to him.

Yuri shrugs and looks at the two suited men, “He’ll work,” he tells them, “Does he have shit coming?”

“A couple boxes, sir,” one answers, Otabek is too busy looking at what he can see of the apartment to pay much attention to their conversation.

It’s beautifully furnished, and well-lit by floor-to-ceiling windows.

“We’ll let you get settled in then,” one of the men say before patting his back and walking back to the apartment door.

Yuri’s eyes turn to him again, and he can feel himself being evaluated again.

“You room’s down here,” he tells him, and Otabek follows as he leads him away from the living room and kitchen to a small hallway with a couple doors. He opens the last one and gestures to a simple but luxurious bedroom, “There’s an en suite and all that,” he informs him, and points over at a pair of small double doors.

Otabek nods and walks in to place his carry-on backpack on the desk chair.

He turns to look back at Yuri to find him looking a little more unsure now.

“So, um, I guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together now,” he says, and Otabek nods, “I don’t go out much,” he continues, “That’s why a bodyguard has never really been needed,” he moves further into the room to leans against the side of a small sitting chair, “So you’ll have to get used to the homebody lifestyle pretty fast.”

Otabek nods again, “Never been one for going out much myself,” he tells him.

“I cook for myself most nights,” Yuri continues, “I don’t know if you have any food allergies or weird diets or anything…”

Otabek shakes his head as he unzips his bag and from the corner of his vision he sees Yuri nod.

“Okay, so you’re not very talkative. That’s nice,” Otabek’s surprised to hear him say those words with sincerity, “Nice change of pace.”

With that he leaves the room, not shutting the door, but the hallway gives Otabek enough privacy it doesn’t really bug him.

He takes out the small amount of sentimental items he had insisted on keeping with him on the plane. A photograph of him and his mother and her old necklace. He also has an extra pair of clothes and some cash. They had promised to set him up with a new phone and anything else he might need.

There’s a small note on the desk that says a few things have been left for him in the top dresser drawer and he opens it to find a small handgun and the apartment’s information. He’s surprised they’re trusting him with all this information and a gun. But then again he’s also confused as to why he’s being trusted to bodyguard JJ’s boyfriend. If he really meant anything to him then wouldn’t JJ have gotten someone he knew well to work with him?

He shakes his head, there was no reason getting worked up about this. This is the best job he’s ever gotten. A look around the room reminds him this is also the best place he’s ever lived.

He’s not sure how he feels about Yuri yet, can’t get a good read on the other man, but he doesn’t seem like a spoiled brat like Otabek would expect from the pretty boyfriends of crime lords.

After hanging up his one t-shirt and jacket and folding his other clothes, he ventures back into the common areas.

He’s met with a familiar face.

“Seunggil?” he almost shouts.

The short Korean man smiles a little, it’s still more emotion than Otabek has ever seen out of him.

Yuri looks between the two of them, but doesn’t seem too interested in the whole exchange.

“Hey, Otabek,” Seunggil responds, “I have some stuff for you,” he holds up a small bag that Otabek guesses are some of his gifts for working with the new company. Behind him there are a couple men carrying in the few boxes Otabek had shipped to Montreal.

“I guess you’re the reason I’m here,” Otabek asks, and Seunggil shrugs.

“I might have put in a few recommendations,” he admits, “Might’ve also convinced the big guys that you were a good enough asset to send some guys to observe you. JJ must’ve liked the feedback he got back.”

Otabek’s smile mirrors the Korean man’s, “How long have you been working in Montreal?”

“A couple of years now,” he answers, “I still travel a lot. It’s a good gig. You deserve to be here, Otabek, and I really owed you one after you saved my ass back in Gwangju”

Otabek goes over and takes the bag from him, as he expected it contains a new smartphone and another prepaid one. There’s also a couple boxes of rounds and a wad of cash with a tailor’s card tucked in with it.

“We got you a new computer, too,” Seunggil tells him, “But that’s mostly because your bodyguard description includes being a paid friend to Mr. Plisetsky and he enjoys a bit of gaming from time to time.”

He hears Yuri scoff from behind them.

Otabek nods. The only ever video game he’d ever played was a half broken Ms PacMan machine a diner across from his childhood apartment had had.

He helps the men move his boxes into his new bedroom after their short conversation and unpacks shortly after they leave. He thinks about Seunggil and the new revelations on the reasons behind his new job. He tries to think of who could have been stationed there to watch him, but he comes up short on names. In all his past jobs he’s never been one to converse too much with his coworkers.

He knew what he needed to about them, could recognize quickly who to trust and who not to trust, but he was never the most social. Too many people in his line of work died for him to even think about making friends.

But now he’s supposed to be a paid friend? He sighs. That is one part of his job description he might not be too hot on.

The smell of tangy citrus pulls him out of his task of unpacking. He follows it blindly into the kitchen only realizing now how hungry he is.

Yuri’s standing over the stove, three cats mewling at his feet. Otabek takes a seat at the bar, announcing his presence with the scraping of the stool against tile.

Yuri looks up at him with those big emerald eyes. They look vulnerable for a second, and then go back to the state resembling the gemstone even more. Cold and hard.

“Making salmon,” he tells him, and Otabek nods, looking at the seasonings and squeezed limes that litter the counter.

“It smells good,” Otabek tells him, and Yuri hums his thanks.

“Lentils for the side,” he continues, “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to.”

“I like them,” he assures him and watches as he turns away to focus on his cooking.

He continues to watch as Yuri takes the salmon out of the oven and places it on plates with the lentils. He puts the plate with the bigger fillet in front of Otabek and sets the other on the small table for himself. Otabek moves over to sit across from him.

“I have wine if you drink,” he tells him, and Otabek shakes his head.

Yuri pours himself a glass of white wine and gets a glass of water for Otabek.

“You don’t have to worry about the friend thing,” Yuri tells him while they eat, “Everyone’s just convinced I’m a weird loner because I don’t socialize enough.”

Otabek looks up at him, “It would be nice if we could be friends,” he tells him, “We’re going to have to spend a lot of time together.”

Yuri’s expression doesn’t change as he takes a sip of his wine, “You just seemed a little uncomfortable at the idea.”

Otabek shrugs, “I’m a bit of a loner myself,” he tells him, “Guess we’re alike in that way, so it shouldn’t be too hard for us to get along. Seunggil’s the only person I know in Montreal. In Canada for that matter, and I hardly know him,” he meets Yuri’s eyes for a second, “It might be nice to have a friend for once.”

Yuri’s lips quirk into a smile for a second before it’s gone, “They told me you’re from Almaty,” he tells him. It almost sounds like it could be a question, as if Yuri doesn’t quite trust the information. Otabek wonders how much he’s allowed to know about the shit that goes on around him.

“Yeah. It’s my hometown. I was travelling around a lot, but I went back recently.”

“I’m from Moscow,” Yuri tells him and then adds, a little rushed, “Do you speak Russian?”

Otabek nods before taking a sip of his water.

That makes Yuri smile for a short bit as well, “I switch to Russian when I’m angry sometimes. It’ll be nice to have someone who understands again.”

Otabek nods again.

They finish their dinner making tiny bits of small talk. Otabek learns that Yuri is only 19 and that he moved to Canada when he was 15. He doesn’t tell him when his relationship with JJ started, and Otabek doesn’t ask. He’s not sure if he wants to know.

Otabek offers to clean, and Yuri lets him. He pours himself another glass of wine and moves into the living room to turn on Netflix. Otabek joins him when he’s done with the cleaning, but finds himself falling asleep halfway through the show he doesn’t understand.

Yuri apologizes when he realizes he must be confused and offers to start at the first episode, but Otabek declines and heads to bed instead.

He wakes up towards the middle of the night with a dry mouth and a bit of a headache. A little disoriented, he walks into the kitchen in search of water, surprised to see lights on still. And then he’s very embarrassed.

In the kitchen he’s met with the sight of Yuri pressed against one of the counters, head leaned back and laying against the cabinet as a man with dark hair mouths at his neck.

It’s Yuri who notices him, pushing who he assumes to be his boss off of him and violently pointing towards Otabek when JJ complains.

“Oh,” he says, finally looking over at Otabek, “Sorry, forgot you had a roommate now.”

He takes a step away from Yuri, wrapping an arm around his waist as he extends his other hand towards Otabek.

Otabek steps forward to shake it.

“We haven’t had an official meeting yet have we?” he asks, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Otabek. I’m Jean-Jacques Leroy, but I suppose you could’ve already guessed that,” he laughs, and Otabek almost misses the grimace that forms on Yuri’s face from the loud noise.

“You can call me JJ,” he adds, “No need for formalities, especially when we’ll be seeing so much of each other.”

Otabek nods but doesn’t say anything. JJ laughs again.

“You can smile, Ota!” he tells him.

“Ota means grandfather in Kazakh,” he tells him, and it causes Yuri to laugh. JJ looks uncomfortable but not angry, which Otabek is thankful for. His blunt way of communicating has gotten him in trouble with higher ups before.

“Seunggil was right when he said you’d be a perfect fit for my Yuri,” he tells him, still smiling, and Otabek wonders how the stone-faced Yuri ever ended up with this man. He doesn’t think too much on that though. He knows the answer.

“We’ll keep it to the bedroom from now on,” he tells Otabek, “I really am sorry. I had forgotten it was today that you moved in.”

Otabek shakes his head, “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he tells them, and JJ laughs before waving goodbye and pulling Yuri away to the blond man’s bedroom.

Yuri flashes him a genuine smile as he’s whisked away, and it leaves Otabek confused as he gets his water.

He wakes up the next morning to a silent apartment, but he’s greeted by all three cats as soon as he gets into the kitchen. It’s obvious what they want as they stretch and rub against him and he’s at a loss of what to do. He goes through all the cabinets he thinks the catfood might be in, but he can’t find anything.

The sound of the refrigerator opening halts his search.

“They get this fancy refrigerated shit,” Yuri tells him, looking down at where he’s crouching on the floor, desperately searching through cabinets.

His long hair is pulled up in a messy bun now, but that’s not what catches Otabek’s attention this time. It’s the fact that he’s wearing satin shorts… boxers? And nothing else on his lower half. His legs are long, pale and slim. Just like the rest of him, so Otabek has no idea why he’s surprised.

He tries not to stare, but his thighs look so soft, and the way his light hair blends in with his skin is so unlike Otabek’s own body that he can’t help but be intrigued. There’s also the small marks and bruises that line his upper thighs.

He can’t help but think of kissing those thighs like JJ must have done, maybe nosing at his more sensitive parts as well and just worshipping the soft, pale skin.

God, he really should’ve gotten laid before he came out here. The tall, model like man wasn’t even his type. But then again, he’d never really seen a man like Yuri. Prettily delicate but with such a strong aura around him. It didn’t make sense, but that’s probably what excited Otabek about him. He couldn’t read him like he could other people.

He looks away when Yuri bends down to spoon the food into the cats’ bowls.

Coffee is started after that, the smell filling the kitchen. Instead of Yuri he focuses on the view from the large windows. There was a gorgeous view of the St. Lawrence River, but Otabek couldn’t help but agree with the more uncontrollable parts of his mind that Yuri was still a much better view.

“Do you want a mug?” Yuri’s voice rings out, and Otabek nods.

“Black, please,” he informs him and soon a mug’s being shoved into his hand.

Yuri stands beside him, also looking out at the window as he blows on the coffee.

“When’d JJ leave?” Otabek asks.

“Soon as he was done,” Yuri tells him, and Otabek has to stop himself from laughing at the phrasing.

The younger man somehow ropes him into a movie marathon, so Otabek spends the rest of the day strangely happy with cats jumping on and off his lap.

They get along better than Otabek could’ve hoped for. Yuri respects his need for alone time, only pestering him to play a video game or watch a movie when Otabek willingly comes out of his room.

JJ doesn’t come over as much as Otabek thought he would, but the amount of times he stays is sporadic. He’ll sometimes just spend a night with him, but other times he’ll be there for breakfast and intruding on their days of Netflix by cuddling and kissing Yuri on the couch until Otabek gets the hint he’s wanted out of the room.

Just as he said, Yuri is quite a homebody. He has groceries delivered to his door, and when they do go out it’s usually only to a neighboring café to get sweets and ridiculously complicated coffee drinks.

It only takes a few months for Otabek to realize Yuri and JJ’s sex life isn’t the most Vanilla. He’s woken up at night to yells coming from Yuri’s room, and on instinct he had rushed over, only to hear a little too much from his place by the door.

He’s quite certain he knows what the loud smacking coming from the room is and what the yell was from. He listens in a little longer just to make sure everything is really okay, or that’s what he tells himself. He tries not to acknowledge that the yelps and moans he can tell belong to Yuri are making his cock harden, tries to ignore the spike of jealousy every time he hears JJ.

It wasn’t jealousy, he tells himself later. Just biology. Yuri was hot, no one could deny it. It was just a natural response. It wasn’t Yuri. Just his looks and the fact that Otabek hadn’t had a good fuck in a while.

There are other times when Otabek can see faint bruises on Yuri’s neck. Other times when he notices marks on his wrists as well.

Their first actual outing is for Otabek. Yuri accompanies him to the tailors for his proper suit. Otabek tries to ignore the feelings that rise up when Yuri tells him it looks good on him. He tries to act normal when they go out to get lunch afterwards and the waiter assumes they’re a couple.

Maybe it’s the way Yuri likes to pull him around by his hand and how close he likes to stand to him. Otabek pretends like it has no effect on him.

The first time he wears his suit is when he accompanies the other security on JJ and Yuri’s date. JJ bought out an entire restaurant for them to eat together in peace, Otabek and the other security standing at the perimeters.

At the end of the night, JJ tells him to take the night off, and Otabek is unsure what to do with himself. Luckily, another guard notices his conflicted expression and invites him out to a bar.

She’s Russian, Otabek can tell from her accent, and she knows Yuri, Otabek finds out.

He asks why she doesn’t get the position and she laughs.

“I’m a little too high-skilled for babysitting,” she tells him, and Otabek only chuckles.

“I like it,” he tells her, “It’s nice.”

She laughs at him, but Otabek takes no offence, “Just don’t get too soft while you’re being playing around with the princess,” she tells him, “He’s not safe. Never has been.”

Otabek gives her a quizzical look, and she laughs.

“Oh you don’t know how many people would love if that kid died,” she tells him, “Most people don’t.”

Otabek furrows his brows, “Are you drunk?”

She laughs again, “Maybe a little,” she admits, “But if no one else is going to warn you then I should. Words getting around about Leroy’s little boytoy. Words are also getting around that he cares about him more than the Mrs,” she takes another swing of her drink, “False words. Anyone who’s ever seen them together can see just what the arrangement is.”

At the end of the night she’s blabbing at him even more, making even less sense, “They really should have appointed me,” she tells him, “But no one gives two shits.”

Otabek helps her when she almost falls out of her stool.

“Mila, are you okay?” he asks her. Someone of her standing really shouldn’t be getting this drunk.

“He deserves so much better than that scum,” she tells him in Russian, and Otabek stares, “You think he’d pay the ransom if he got taken? I doubt it. There are other boys for him to fuck.”

Otabek continues to stare blankly at her, holding her up by her wrists. He doesn’t know what to do when she kisses him. His first instinct is to kiss back. He hasn’t been kissed in so long, but then he pushes her away, remembers they’re in a bar and that she’s drunk and confusing and his coworker.

He gets her address and pays for her cab before returning back to the penthouse.

It’s empty, something Otabek’s not used to, and it makes him uneasy. It makes it hard to sleep. The cats must all feel the same because all three of them end up in his bed, snuggling close.

Yuri comes back in the morning, looking ruffled up and tired. Otabek hands him a mug of black coffee and sticks some bread in the toaster for him.

He’s surprised when Yuri hugs him from behind, leaning against him and laying his head against his as they wait for the toast, but he doesn’t push away. Yuri smells like sex and sweat, but Otabek doesn’t push him away, instead he finds himself rubbing the wrist against his stomach, trying to soothe away the new red marks that are there.

“Do you like it?” he asks quietly, taken aback by the fact he’s being so bold.

It takes Yuri a while to answer, “Most of the time,” he whispers against him, and then he lets him go, just as the toast pops up.

They eat breakfast on the couch, snuggled close together and batting the cats away when they reach for the toast. It’s nice, Otabek thinks to himself. Comfortable. It feels natural.

He does end up listening to Mila words. He trains harder, determined to not let any soft spots return. Yuri goes with him to the shooting range and half watches him, half plays his DS.

Yuri seems to find his increase in training amusing, asking snarky questions like if he’ll be wanting only chicken breasts from now on or if he needs to add protein powder to their grocery list. It doesn’t bother Otabek, especially when it’s coupled with Yuri bringing him new bottles of water or a sweat towel.

The only exercise Yuri does is yoga. He has a private instructor come once a week, but usually he just does it on his own. Sometimes he tries to convince Otabek to join him, but Otabek always refuses.

“I don’t bend that way,” he tells him, and it makes Yuri laugh as he goes into the easier stretches before the hard ones.

But Otabek does like to watch him. His flexibility is amazing, something Otabek never had even when he was a child. He’d always envied those who were able to bend like Yuri could.

He comments on it one day, and he’s surprised to see Yuri smile at the remark.

“I used to do ballet,” he tells him, “But it’s a little too damaging to just be a hobby, so I switched to this.”

Later that day Yuri shows him some pictures of his recitals back in Russia, Otabek smiles as they go through the pictures of young Yuri.

Even when baby fat covered his face and body he still had those strong eyes. The eyes of a soldier.

He looks at those eyes again, those gorgeous emerald eyes that shine so bright. He could probably stare at those eyes for hours.

They go out to shop for Yuri when it gets colder. He wants a new scarf and a nicer coat, and he promises to get Otabek something despite the older man’s protests.

They’re in a boutique that’s way too overpriced in Otabek’s opinion, but then he also hasn’t been shopping for clothes in years.

Yuri is looking at some ridiculous cheetah print coat that Otabek doubts anyone but him could pull off. He’s thinking about why they would bother making so much when one of the windows shatter.

Otabek reacts without thinking, grabbing Yuri and pulling him down, covering him with his own body and maneuvering them to behind the counter.

There’s screaming from the shop assistants and other shoppers, and Yuri is clutching onto his jacket, but Otabek stays calm, focusing on finding where the shot came from and finding the best way to escape. He grabs a scarf from the floor, probably fell during the excitement, and he wraps Yuri in it, covering his recognizable hair and hopefully confusing their assailants. There are more gunshots and more screams, so Otabek takes the moment of confusion to drag Yuri into what he assumes is the breakroom.

There’s a fire exist inside, just as Otabek had hoped for, and he peaks out before pulling Yuri into the alley behind the building.

Another fire exist across the way, and Otabek forces his way in, dragging Yuri with him. This shop has less windows luckily, but there’s just as many terrified civilians. He finds his way to another door besides the front and from there he and Yuri run, hand in hand. He hears more gunshots, and the sound of a car peeling out, and Otabek knows they’re not safe on feet.

There’s a man across the street in the middle of turning on his motorcycle, obviously going through an internal crisis of whether he should speed out of there or get to cover.

Otabek takes advantage of his confusion to rush over with Yuri and throw him off the bike. With Yuri on behind him, he speeds out of there.

Yuri’s fingers are clawed into his shirt, but he’s calmer than Otabek expected. There are still gunshots. Still the sounds of screams and a car not following the rules of the road. Otabek does his best to use the bike to his advantage, taking narrow alleyways and zipping between traffic.

It’s been a long time since he’s ridden a bike, but he’s still pretty good. And the adrenaline is giving him confidence and focus. They’re well out of the neighborhood by the time the commotion stops, and well out of Montreal before Otabek feels like they can stop. He pulls into a gas station, still amazed by how unfazed Yuri is by all of this.

He remembers Mila’s drunken words, “ _ He’s not safe. Never has been,”  _ she had said. Otabek wonders how many other times Yuri had been shot at. He wonders why he’s his first bodyguard.

“Are you okay?” he asks Yuri, and the younger man nods.

The floral scarf compliments his skin nicely, and Otabek smiles at the fact that he still knew how to wrap a hijab after doing it a couple times for his mother as she got older and sicker.

“We should get rid of our phones,” he tells him, and Yuri nods before silently handing him his.

He smashes it onto the ground and with his foot before tossing it into a storm drain, and the does the same to his own. He checks the prepaid phone he had received on his first day, and sure enough there is a text from an unsaved number.

_ Is Yuri safe?  _ It reads, and another one is sent afterwards.

_ Reply with new phone _

Otabek tosses that phone as well after going with Yuri to the convenience store to buy a new burner, the cheap t-shirts and sweatpants they sell, a notebook and pen, and some granola bars and water and then writing down the number.

He texts the number a simple yes, and isn’t surprised when he gets a text to stay out of Montreal for a while. It was exactly what he’d planned.

Otabek buys another burner and they drive down a little ways longer until they come across a shitty motel that’ll serve as their home for a while. He buys a single room, thankful it comes with two beds.

Yuri unwraps his hair from the scarf when they get into the safety of the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Otabek asks again, and Yuri nods silently once more.

Otabek frowns and goes over to him, placing his hands lightly on his shoulders, “Then say something.”

“I’m fine,” Yuri tells him angrily, and Otabek sighs. At least he wasn’t going into shock.

He takes off his shoes and goes to sit on one of the beds.

“Are you okay?” Yuri asks, his words bite through the air, and he realizes Yuri must think he’s babying him.

“Yeah, just surprised,” Otabek answers honestly.

“You’re being paid to be my bodyguard and you’re surprised you’re getting shot at?” Yuri asks, the venom still clear in his voice.

“No,” Otabek tells him quietly, “I’m surprised by you. You didn’t even scream.”

That made some of the anger leave Yuri’s face.

“I mean I shouldn’t be surprised. I always saw it in your eyes. You’re strong. You have the eyes of a solider.”

Those eyes narrowed at him, and Otabek wishes he was better with words so he could properly articulate what he meant.

He meant his eyes were strong, but also scared. Because they knew there were things in the world you had to be scared of. They knew that nightmares were real and how close the shadows were that they lurked in. They knew what pain was.

He doesn’t know how to say any of that to Yuri.

“It’s not the first time you’ve been shot at,” he says instead. It comes out as more of an accusation than he had meant it to.

Yuri takes a seat on the neighboring bed, “I’m dating Montreal’s mob king. Don’t you think it’s normal to be shot at?”

“But no one knew about you until recently,” Otabek continues, “You weren’t getting shot at here. Or else they would’ve hired someone sooner,” he pauses, “They would have, right?”

Yuri swallows and looks away.

“You have nothing to lose by telling me,” he tells him, and curses himself for how inconsiderate the words sound. Of course he has things to lose by telling him. It’s not easy to talk about things like that. Yuri has the right to get angry at him. If someone had said something like that about when he wouldn’t talk about his past he probably would punch them.

But Yuri doesn’t seem mad, instead he just nods.

“My dad was a powerful boss in Russia,” he tells him, “But my mom wasn’t his wife. He ruled St. Petersburg, but my mom returned to Moscow while she was still pregnant with me. She went to her dad’s house, and he took her back in despite her running away when she was just 13,” he pauses and looks down at his hands.

“Or was it 12? I can’t remember now,” he looks guilty, but still continues, “So she had me and I had a normal life for a while, I mean as normal as a life could be when you’re dirt poor living in Moscow. We didn’t have any money. My grandfather was sick a lot, and my mom didn’t have any education and had drug problems, so no one was going to hire her.”

He takes a deep breath, “She died when I was three. And so it was just me and my grandpa, until my half-brother intruded. Apparently he knew about his bastard brother and had been trying to find him for some time. And eventually he did. He forced his dad to do a DNA test and take me in. At first they just gave me money and let me stay with my grandad, but eventually he became too sick to take care of me, and my brother, Viktor… He insisted I come live with him in St. Petersburg.”

He pauses again, looks up at Otabek.

“It kind of makes him seem like a bad guy, dragging me into this world, but I was so poor and useless that I probably would’ve ended up in a worse position than I am now if he hadn’t intervened.”

“He spoiled the crap out of me, encouraged me to pursue ballet, even convinced me I could make a career out of it, but then people started to figure out about the little blond boy that lived with the mob boss’s son. And I became a target. It wasn’t too bad until they found out who I really was, and then even his allies wanted me gone. They knew how the organized crime business worked, knew how important family was.”

“As long as I was around there was worry that their territory would be handed down to me. Eventually dealing with all the death threats and kidnapping became too much for my father, and after I came close to death a couple too many times, even Viktor agreed I wasn’t safe there. So they faked my death in Russia and sent me over to Canada to live under the Leroys’ protection.”

Otabek stared at him. The mob families of Russia were no laughing matter. Otabek had worked in Russia, and it had been some of the most gruesome work he’d ever done. There were always death threats, always wars, and the crime was so high up in politics that nothing was ever done about any of it.

He also knew the name Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov. He was the current king in St. Petersburg, and famous among their world for his strong relationship with one of the most influential members of the Yakuza.

It made sense. As to why Yuri had so easily broken into JJ’s circle without being the typical socialite gold digger, but he still didn’t understand why the relationship had started. If he was under the Leroys’ protection in the first place, then why did he have to go through the trouble of a relationship with JJ?

Unless there were actual feelings there. Otabek was ashamed of himself for pushing out that possibility. He was being selfish. Just because he wanted Yuri didn’t mean his feelings were reciprocated. It didn’t mean that his relationship with JJ was void.

“My father got tired of paying them for my protection after a while. The price kept getting steeper, or so he claimed, but I’m not sure if it did.”

Otabek is shocked to hear him continue, too lost in his thoughts to think Yuri would give him any more information.

“After JJ took over he offered a new agreement. Less money and in exchange he could fuck me. JJ was overjoyed by the offer it turned out, and my father considered himself a lucky man.”

Otabek stares at him and can’t stop himself from going over and putting an arm over his shoulders, “I’m so sorry Yuri,” he tells him.

“Don’t worry,” he assures him, but his voice is weak and it does nothing to comfort Otabek, “I had no idea the agreement was a thing until later. Jean told me when we had a fight… He was smooth about it. Didn’t want to damage his conscience I guess. He took me out to dinner, bought me presents, basically courted me until I finally spread my legs on my own.”

He swallows, and Otabek can tell he’s embarrassed by that part of the story, overwhelmingly so, “And I know he wasn’t lying either. I confronted my father about it later, and he confirmed it. He never really gave a shit about me. It was only ever Viktor, and he never knew. Even now he thinks the relationship was purely organic, thinks that the reason he doesn’t have to pay Jean anything is because we’re madly in love,” Yuri laughs, “I guess that’s how he thinks everyone’s life works.”

Otabek lets both arms wrap around his skinny frame, but Yuri shrugs him off.

“I want to shower,” he tells Otabek, and he nods and watches him go through the sliding door to the little en suite. 

He lays on the bed as he waits for him, staring at the burner, waiting for JJ to contact him again. Yuri is taking a while in the shower, and the silence is letting Otabek’s mind go through every single thing that could go wrong. 

When he peeks out the curtain of the room’s single window he’s met with an almost empty parking lot. The only other car besides the motorcycle is a run down old truck. 

_ The motorcycle _ . Otabek’s mind frets,  _ They’re going to check every place they pass with a motorcycle. Or maybe they’re already here. Waiting for you to come out with Yuri. _

He could move it to the back. Or he could dump it somewhere a few miles away and walk back, but that would mean leaving Yuri alone for a few hours. He can’t do that.

Instead he listens to the pipes scream and whine until the water shuts off in the bathroom. Yuri comes out a little while later with one towel wrapped around his waist, and another one patting down his wet hair.

Otabek coughs a little when he realizes he’s staring. He hands him the grey sweats and shirt he got at the gas station, looking away quickly when Yuri lets his towel drop right there before pulling on the pants.

Yuri has to snap to get his attention, “How long are we going to be here?”

Otabek looks down at the burner that still hasn’t received any more news, “At least for a few days,” he tells him, “There’s a vending machine outside. Hopefully it has more than just candy.”

Yuri scrunches up his nose, “We can’t just take the bike somewhere else?”

Otabek shakes his head, watching Yuri scrunch the towel against his hair, “Until we know more about what’s going on we should stay put. I need to stash the bike somewhere it won’t be so easy to see.”

“Right now?” Yuri asks, and Otabek nods before handing Yuri the extra burner he got and a piece of paper with the number for Otabek’s disposable phone, and the one for what he assumes is JJ’s. 

“Call me if anything happens. Don’t open the door for anyone; I’m going to take the key with me. It shouldn’t take longer than  five minutes.”

Yuri nods in understanding and Otabek stands up before taking another sweeping view of him. He still doesn’t look fazed, all evidence of the emotional story he told moments earlier were gone from his expression. Instead he was stoic and calm as he silently dried his hair.

He gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile before leaving the room. The motel is shrouded in silence, and the lights are off at the office now, leaving the blinking neon sign and the sky to illuminate the area. There’s a street light, but the bulb is dead or just plain missing.

The motorcycle comes to life with a roar, and Otabek wonders if it wakes up the owner. He dwells on that thought as he takes it to the back of the motel, wedging it between the brick wall and the second, large green dumpster that looks like it hasn’t been moved in years.

When he gets back to the front, the office light is back on, but no one opens the door. It still has Otabek hurriedly unlocking the door before slipping into the room.

The towel’s hung up now, and Yuri is picking at the loose strings on the comforter again. 

“You were hired muscle before you came to Canada,” Yuri begins, looking at him as if he’s waiting for him to argue, “You sort of still are now.”

Otabek nods, genuinely curious to where Yuri’s going with this.

“You’ve killed people?” Yuri asks, and Otabek blinks at him.

“Yeah,” he responds quietly, wondering why he couldn’t just nod at that one as well. Yuri doesn’t react to his answers, and Otabek figures that’s normal. He’s used to being surrounded by killers.

“Do you feel bad for it?” he asks him, and Otabek finds himself shaking his head without a single thought. Again, Yuri doesn’t seem fazed.

“I usually don’t have a lot of time to think about what I’m doing in the moment,” he tells him, “And it became such a constant in my life that I guess I’m sort of hollow to it now.”

Yuri nods, “Do you ever enjoy it?”

Otabek is a little taken aback by the question, and it takes him a while to finally respond with a shrug, “Again,” he begins, “I don’t usually have time to think about it in the moment. There are sometimes when it’s more satisfying than others.”

“JJ enjoys killing people,” Yuri tells him. Otabek is about to comfort him before Yuri speaks again, “I’m not fishing for pity here, Otabek. I’ve just never had anyone to tell this to before,” Yuri swallows and looks him in the eyes. There’s a little bit of a shadow over his emerald globes, and it’s more than just the bad lighting in the cheap motel room.

“He’s killed for me before,” Yuri tells him and then wrinkles his nose before explaining further, “And I don’t mean in my defense, I mean he’s beat people to death while wanting me to be his audience. One time there was a man begging for me to help him when he slit his throat. His hand was around my ankle, and the blood got all over me.”

Otabek furrows his eyebrows at the description and the glazed look in Yuri’s eyes.

“I didn’t feel anything for him,” he confesses, and Otabek nods in understanding, “They’ve never been anyone random and innocent before. They’re always traitors or someone who thought they could climb up the ladder by breaking rules. I think a couple of them were just insignificant customers who owed the Leroys a debt.”

A pink tongue swipes out to wet his chapped lips, “I’m worried I wouldn’t feel bad even if they were innocent. I’m worried I might be way more fucked up than I think.”

Otabek shakes his head. He doesn’t know exactly how to comfort the teenager, but he can relate to those sentiments. There were many times he felt like a complete monster for never feeling bad for the lives he took.

“You’re not a monster,Yura,” he tells him, and they both look a little surprised at the nickname, “You’re a product of your environment. If you want to change, you can. Anyone can change if they try hard enough, but if you don’t want to change that’s fine too. This life’ll be easier if you don’t.”

Yuri’s lips quirk into a small smile, “Anybody’s life would be easier without a guilty conscience.”

Otabek guesses he’s right on that one. He really wishes he was more comforting. He really didn’t expect to be playing therapist in this job. 

There’s a thick silence between them before Otabek asks a question he immediately regrets, “Have you ever killed someone?”

To his surprise, Yuri’s smile gets bigger at the question, “Directly,” he pauses, “I’ve killed two people. One was a man who attempted to kidnap me for ransom back in Russia. My dad handed me the gun and made me shoot him. It took me five shots to kill him. Two missed and two more didn’t hit anything important. My dad tried to get me to leave him there to bleed out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that.”

Otabek nods, and Yuri takes a deep breath before continuing.

“The other time was here in Canada. He was one of JJ’s best men, and if he hadn’t been so at ease in JJ’s house I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did. We were there alone because JJ had gotten a call and had to go out somewhere. JJ asked him to keep me company, and we were just talking, but then he mentioned how he had worked in Russia for a bit, and how he had to be honest in telling me that he knew who I was.”

“I thought at first that was all he was doing, telling me because he thought it was fair for me to know or something. But then he was asking me to talk to JJ about getting him a raise so he’d be more inclined to keep quiet, and it reminded me too much of all the times I was lying on the floor of some cold, damp warehouse, listening to some asshole make demands to my father or Viktor.”

“So I kind of freaked out and grabbed the heaviest thing i could reach, and I bashed his head in.”

For the second time that night, Yuri looks uncharacteristically vulnerable. 

“How did JJ react?” Otabek asks, but he feels like he already knows the answer.

“He was proud,” Yuri says with a sad smile, “He wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell him I felt like I overreacted. But then again, JJ never really listens to me. He talks too much to listen to anyone.”

Otabek nods, and he moves to sit next to Yuri on the bed. They cuddled on the couch back at the apartment all the time, but now he’s hyperaware of the way Yuri’s body feels against his and how his slender arms fold against his chest when Otabek pulls him against it.

“You’re good at listening,” he tells Otabek, “When I talk to you it really feels like my words mean something, you know?”

Otabek nods, rubbing a comforting hand on his back.

“And I’m sorry for getting so emotional,” he tells him sheepishly, “I must be tired or more stressed out than I know.”

“Or both,” Otabek supplies, and Yuri hums in agreement against his shoulder. 

They stay like that for a while. Otabek feels guilty because he knows he’s sweaty and gross and smells like outdoors and Yuri just came out of the shower, smelling like cheap shampoo and bar soap. 

When Yuri looks at him he’s instantly captured by his emerald eyes. They still look foggy, and Otabek figures Yuri must be suppressing some fear and anxiety under all his cool control.

Yuri chews at his chapped bottom lip before speaking, “Can I kiss you?” he asks, and for a second Otabek wonders if this is all a test. If JJ is trying to see that Otabek can still suppress his emotions towards the beautiful man when he’s like this. Even so, he can't bring himself to refuse Yuri

“Yes,” he breathes out, and feels his worries and control melt against Yuri’s dry lips.

The kiss seems to last for hours, and when Yuri pulls away from him he has a smile on that Otabek can see in his eyes. 

“I liked that,” Yuri tells him, and Otabek nods and suppresses the urge to crash their mouths together again. It turns out he really likes making Yuri smile. Especially like that, “Can we share a bed tonight?” he asks, and Otabek nods, following the way his light eyelashes brush against his cheeks when he blinks slowly.

The kiss took away any shame Otabek had in staring at Yuri and admiring his beauty. Yuri likes the attention from him. He likes  _ him _ .

“Yeah,” he tells him, and clears his throat because it came out like a croak, “Yeah, of course. Whatever you want, Yuri.”

Yuri nods, and gives him another short kiss before telling him to go shower.

Otabek follows his orders, stepping out of the bathroom to find Yuri already asleep under the covers. He slips on the other pair of sweats and climbs in with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay, sorry for the delay. I had this all finished and then I decided I kind of hated it except for the first part so I started rewriting it and then I hated that too so now it's kind of a blend of the two and probably has a lot of mistakes because I am eternally in a state of extreme tiredness during school.
> 
> Also I got some [fanart](http://angleterre.tumblr.com/post/158673471149/one-night-when-i-was-craving-for-my-otp3-i-found) of this story! Thanks a million Angleterre!

The sound of a phone going off has Otabek shooting out of bed. He’s horrified to see Yuri up and sitting on the other bed, a half eaten granola bar in his hand.

“You should’ve woken me up the moment you got up,” Otabek tells him, voice gruff with sleep.

Yuri responds with a small smirk.

“It’s JJ,” he tells him, phone pressed against his face, “They were able to round up the shooters faster than they expected. He’s picking us up this afternoon.”

Otabek blinks at him in surprise. He guesses it wasn’t much of a serious threat if the gunmen were able to be found so quickly, or he just underestimated how much JJ cares for Yuri. 

He thinks back to the conversation with Mila and figures it must be the earlier. 

Yuri gives JJ the name of the motel they’re staying at. Otabek’s impressed he remembers it when he only saw it once before they locked up in their room. He finishes the call with a simple goodbye, and then he’s climbing back into the covers, putting his half-eaten granola bar onto the nightstand. Otabek is more than a little surprised when Yuri kisses him.

It shows in his behavior, and it has Yuri pulling back and looking at him with a pout, “Is something wrong?” he asks him, and Otabek wonders if Yuri’s ever had to deal with rejection.

“JJ’s coming,” he reminds him, but god he really wants to kiss him again and maybe pull open the curtain and take off his clothes and just stare at him there in the sunlight for a bit.

Yuri shrugs, “I don’t care,” he tells him, but instead of going back to kissing him he pushes him onto his back so he can lay his head on his bare chest. 

Otabek can feel his eyelashes against his skin when he blinks, and he finds himself relaxing against the teenager, allowing himself to place a hand on his upper arm and rub the skin there.

“What about JJ?” he asks. He supposes it would be a little hypocritical for him to get mad at Yuri for kissing another man when he has a wife and a boyfriend, but if there’s one thing he knows from being in this line of work, it’s that the bosses are usually more than a little crazy.

Yuri’s laugh is breathy and he can feel it against his torso, “He encourages it,” Yuri tells him, and Otabek’s body stills. Did he wake up in a different universe? How many more surprises is he getting today?

“Encourages it?” Otabek questions, and Yuri nods.

“Not at first, he didn’t,” Yuri explains, “But then he was gone for work for a month, and he came back feeling guilty with a long list of things he was going to change to make our relationship ‘better’ or some shit.”

“Was this before or after the fight where he told you that your dad gave his blessing for him to fuck you if started protecting you for free?” Otabek asks, frowning at the way his dumb mind phrased the question.

“After,” Yuri tells him, his hands are tracing patterns onto Otabek’s abdomen now, and every once in awhile his fingers will brush over skin in the perfect way and send shivers up his spine, “JJ’s weird. He doesn’t make sense a lot of the times. He’s an asshole most of the time, too. He has no filter and talks too much, especially about himself.”

Otabek’s hand moves down his arm to gently stroke his wrists, “And he hurts you,” he reminds him, still unsure if he’s overstepping his boundaries.

“Sometimes,” Yuri confesses quietly, “Usually when he’s had a rough day or he’s just had his fun offing someone in front of me. I used to hate him. After he told me the truth about what my father did, I hated him with all my guts, but I think in his own weird way he does care about me. Not as much as he cares about Isabella or his business, but he does.”

Otabek nods, trying not to feel sad when the words come out of Yuri’s mouth, “Do you care about him?” he asks, and Yuri shrugs, elbowing him lightly in the side as he does so.

“Maybe a little. I would be sad if he died, but I don’t think the sadness would last very long. It wouldn’t be like when my grandfather passed away. It wouldn’t even be like when I had to leave Viktor,” Yuri sighs and adjusts himself to instead just lay next to Otabek, slipping his hand into his.

“That’s what makes me dislike him the most. He says dumb shit like ‘I love you,’ sometimes, and then he gets all depressed when I don’t say it back. Because I  _ don’t _ love him, and I can’t just make myself care about him like that suddenly. It’s frustrating to be stuck in that situation.”

Otabek lets his nose brush against Yuri’s forehead and looks down at the younger man, “That also makes you feel like a bad person,” he comments. It really should’ve been phrased as a question because despite Yuri pouring his heart out to him this morning and last night, Otabek doesn’t feel like he’s cemented enough in Yuri’s life to make assumptions about emotions like that.

“I’ve never been in love,” Otabek tells him, “Not romantically, anyways. I used to think something was wrong with me because other people fall in love so easily.”

“To multiple people if you’re JJ,” Yuri adds, and Otabek smiles and presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah. It seems to be pretty easy for him,” Otabek whispers against Yuri’s hair, and they lay there for a while in a comfortable silence.

“Sorry for getting all emotional with you,” Yuri tells him, “I usually keep all this shit to myself. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to bug you with all of it.”

Otabek smiles against Yuri’s soft hair and stretches his neck up to rest his chin on top of his head so he can speak to Yuri more clearly, “I like you bugging me with it.”

They had both fallen asleep when a large black SUV pulls up in the parking lot. The sound of tires on the rough surface is enough to wake Otabek, and he shakes Yuri awake, not really wanting to find out if what Yuri had said about his and JJ’s relationship was true by him finding them tangled up together.

Yuri groans awake and ends up headbutting Otabek in the jaw when he looks up, and Otabek pretends through the pain because Yuri just looks confused as to what his head hit, and people apologizing to him makes him feel awkward.

“Looks like he’s here,” Otabek tells him, and he has to push Yuri away when he groans and tries to snuggle back against him.

In the end he just has to get out of the bed. He picks up their belongings from the floor, pulling on a t-shirt as he does. There’s a knock at the door when Otabek’s shoving their old clothes into the small bag, and Otabek grabs his gun just in case as he goes to check the peep-hole.

It ends up being JJ, so he lets himself relax as he opens the door. 

He has to admit that JJ does look sleep deprived and worried as all heck, only brightening when he sees Yuri’s sleeping form on the bed.

Otabek doesn’t miss the way his eyes falter over the other, still made bed, and it has him swallowing nervously.

“Yuri,” JJ calls out in a sing-song voice, and he’s rewarded with the same groan Otabek heard twice, “Come on, Kitten. If you get up we can go get as much food as you want.”

That’s what finally gets Yuri pushing himself up onto his hands and twisting to look back at the two of them, “Who’s driving?”

“Mila’s here,” JJ answers and that has Yuri slamming himself back into the bed with a groan.

JJ looks hilariously defeated. Otabek finally has the bag packed up and is putting on his shoes and pulling the covers off of Yuri so he can force him into his socks.

“She found most of the gunmen single handedly! It’s not like I can just tell her no when she wants to be the one to come with to pick you up just because you sometimes get annoyed by her.”

“She’s suffocating,” Yuri argues, and now Otabek is sliding on his shoes and holstering him up, much to JJ’s amusement, “She thinks she gets to act like we’re family just because she knew Viktor too.”

They’re out the door despite Yuri’s protests. JJ climbs into the back of the vehicle with Yuri, so Otabek is stuck up front with Mila. To her credit, if she feels awkward about her drunk interaction with him, she doesn’t show it.

JJ gives her orders to drive to some restaurant nearby, some generic name that Otabek doesn’t really pay attention to. Mila is professional but there’s still a sourness that shows on her face every time she glances at the rearview mirror. 

Otabek doesn’t have to look back to know what’s going on, especially when there’s a small wet sound and a groan from Yuri in response.

“Don’t be like that, Yuri,” JJ protests, “Let me show my beautiful lady some love.”

“Not a lady,” Yuri reminds him, and it’s hard for Otabek to tell if the comment bugs him or not. 

It definitely doesn’t deter JJ, and Mila is looking increasingly annoyed with every look into the mirror.

“We’re here,” she says, voice gruff as they pull into the parking lot of a quaint looking cafe. They’re still not back in Montreal. Otabek isn’t sure how far he drove the night before, all he’d been focused on was getting Yuri as far away from the gunmen as possible.

It’s awkward when the four of them sit down at the booth, Mila and Otabek on one side, with JJ and Yuri on the other. Mila’s able to conceal her earlier disgust, but she still looks rather annoyed.

Their waitress is motherly, an older woman who Otabek figures might also be one of the owners. JJ speaks to her in Québécois, translating their orders as he goes. 

The only other customer in the small cafe is a gruff-looking laborer that doesn’t fit the antique and delicate aesthetic of the restaurant, but his group stands out against the decor as well.

Mila and JJ are both dressed in all black, intimidating but stylish, and it’s an odd contrast to Yuri and Otabek who are both in cheap sweats and t-shirts. He can see the tangles in Yuri’s hair from across the table, and he feels bad for not thinking more and buying a comb or brush from the convenience store they stopped at the night before.

Mila starts fretting the moment the waitress is gone, and Otabek understands what Yuri meant by her being suffocating.

No matter how many times Yuri tells her that yes, he’s fine and no, he didn’t even get a single scratch during the whole thing, she still has a worried glint in her eyes.

The booth they’re in is off to the corner and far enough away from the kitchen and other customer that Otabek feels safe asking Mila and JJ about the gunmen.

JJ simply shrugs, “Seemed like they were hired. Guessing Russian since they were shooting so blindly. My enemies have no reason to want him dead, just as a bargaining chip.”

“Stop acting like it’s that simple,” Mila retorts, “If they’re Russian then they know he’s here because one of your men snitched.”

She’s rewarded with an eye-roll, “Whoever it was could’ve just as easily been tipped off by the Russians. I run the best and tightest organization in the entire world. If someone was blabbing off about who Yuri was, someone else would be reporting it to me.”

It’s Otabek’s turn to be skeptical, “People have found out before without you knowing,” he reminds him and immediately feels guilty. Yuri had told him that story in confidence, and now here he was just blabbing about it to JJ and Mila.

A glance over at Yuri tells him he isn’t mad, and it settles his nerves.

JJ is giddy at the revelation, “So Yuri told you about that?” he laughs, “There’s no need to worry Beckie!”

Yuri bursts out laughing at the nickname, and Mila looks downright confused.

“Beckie?”

“You wouldn’t let me call you Ota so I had to come up with something else!” JJ explains, and then continues on in defending his practices, “All of my men, even the most insignificant and useless go through extreme vetting before they’re allowed to work with me, and after that I make sure they take all of their reports very seriously so if there’s even the smallest misdemeanor I can look into it and punish them accordingly.”

“I’m the best at what I do,” JJ reminds them, “It’s not like I gave the nickname ‘King JJ’ to myself!”

Yuri mouths,  _ He did _ , to Otabek, and he almost doesn’t control his laughter. The waitress brings them their coffee and water along with sugar and cream that JJ’s the only one who uses.

“Speaking of kings,” Mila begins after chastising Yuri for trying to drink the coffee before letting it cool, “We should contact Viktor about what happened.”

JJ waves off her suggestion, “I already have,” he informs her, and if Mila looked angry in the car, it’s no comparison to how furious she looks now.

“You didn’t even consult me,” her words are cold and sharp and even have Yuri looking down at the table. JJ doesn’t seem affected.

“Why would I? Because you’re Russian? I’m the one in charge of this entire business  _ and _ protecting Yuri,” JJ reminds her.

“What’d he say?” Yuri asks.

“Well,” JJ begins, Mila’s still fuming, but he doesn’t seem to care, “I told him there was no need to worry as I took care of the gunmen.”

“We,” Mila corrects, and JJ brushes off her comment.

“And then he asked why I was calling instead of my parents, and I had to remind him I took over the business years ago, and then he asked a billion questions about me and Yuri before finally wanting to talk about the men who’d just tried to kill his brother,” JJ sipped his sweetened coffee, already cooled from the amount of cream he’d poured in.

“Such a weird guy,” JJ says offhandedly before continuing the story, “I explained that the gunmen were just in it for the money. But they obviously didn’t know who exactly was paying them. He’ll be keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.”

“That’s it?” Mila questions, “He was that calm about this? He’s just going to ‘keep an eye out’?”

JJ looks confused by Mila’s response, “You’re the only one who’s reacting like this, MIla. Yuri’s safe. And he’ll stay safe because of how great of a bodyguard I hired.”

Otabek says an awkward, quiet thanks. People he’d worked for in the past would have never let a subordinate talk to them like Mila was talking to JJ. He’s thankful when the food arrives and they’re too busy eating to argue.

They drive back to the city with the radio on too loud for them to talk, Mila’s doing, and then they’re dropped off at Yuri’s apartment building. All three of them.

Otabek is a little nervous having JJ follow them up. He knows Yuri says he’s fine with him being with other people, but he also wouldn’t put it past JJ to randomly change his mind about it.

JJ spends the entire elevator ride up flirting with and teasing Yuri like they’re kids on a playground, and Yuri is quick to extract himself from the other man with the excuse of needing to go put some conditioner in his hair that actually works.

Otabek doesn’t know if he should go hide out in his room or keep JJ company, and he silently curses Yuri for putting him in such an awkward situation.

He really doesn’t expect JJ to guide him into the living room with a hand on the back of his neck and sit him down on the couch before taking a seat across from him.

“How much did he tell you?” JJ asks. He’s calm, which Otabek takes as a good sign.

Otabek shrugs, “He talked about a lot of stuff. I know about your arrangement with his father if that’s what you’re referring to.”

JJ nods, “And how he killed one of my men, apparently. Has he told you about my weird hobby?”

He looks up and finds JJ’s dark blue eyes looking directly at him, “That you like to kill people while he watches?” Otabek tries and finds it a little unsettling when JJ laughs.

“Yes, that one,” there’s silence between them then. The only sound is the water from Yuri’s shower.

JJ stands, gets a glass of water from the kitchen and then returns. There’s a darker glint in his eyes now and Otabek feels his body stiffen. He has his gun with him, like always, but what’s he supposed to do if JJ comes at him? Shoot the king of the Montreal mob and expect to leave the city alive?

“He’s taken a liking to you,” JJ comment. His voice is calm, his dark eyes are now raking over Otabek.

He knows how it feels to get sized up, by an opponent and an employer. This feels different.

“We’ve spent a lot of time together,” Otabek tells him. Their eyes meet, and Otabek doesn’t look away. Neither does JJ. He isn’t sure if he likes this better than his eyes sweeping over him.

“Even so,” JJ continues, “It’s rare that Yuri finds someone he likes. He genuinely enjoys spending time with you. So much so that he’s even refused my company in exchange for yours.”

Otabek’s mouth parts, allowing a little bit of his surprise to show through his usual stoic facade. While Yuri never seemed to dislike spending time with him, Otabek never expected that Yuri would go as far as to refuse JJ for him. 

“Does that surprise you?” JJ asks with a laugh. He breaks their eye contact and takes a seat again, this time on the ottoman right in front of him, invading his space. He reaches across him to set his water class on the end table, forcing Otabek to lean back or touch his boss. He choose to lean back.

He’d never really paid much attention to JJ, only in context to Yuri. Now, he’s forced to pay attention to the man, and Otabek can’t help but admit he’s attractive. Unlike Yuri, he’s the type of guy Otabek would normally go for. Tall, muscular, and overall just traditionally handsome. The modern haircut throws off the traditional vibe, a mirror of Otabek’s own, as does the smirk and the glint in his eyes. What usually made men give off a gentle vibe is contorted to give off a dangerous one. It’s fitting for a mob boss, but it’s also leaving Otabek with conflicted feelings.

He’s lost in his thought when JJ leans in and their lips press together. There’s a strong hand on the back of his neck, pushing him closer into the kiss, and another resting on his thigh. 

The sound of a hair dryer grounds him to reality, which he’s more than thankful for, because this doesn’t seem real. 

Otabek had always prided himself on being able to read people, to figure them out, but with JJ and Yuri that skill is thrown out the window. 

JJ looks pleased with himself when he pulls away. His hand is still resting on his thigh, feeling impossibly heavy and warm through the cheap sweats.

“Did you two already do that?” JJ asks, and Otabek raises an eyebrow. If this is just a ploy to get him to admit he’s touched Yuri, it’s a fucking weird one, “You can answer honestly,” JJ laughs, “You’re not in trouble. It would just be nice to know who I’m sharing my little princess with.”

Otabek swallows, “We’ve kissed,” he admits, slowly feeling his nerves settle. JJ really doesn’t seem mad, but Otabek isn’t sure what the man wants from him.

JJ is pleased by his answer, “Let me guess!” he exclaims, “He kissed you, right?”

Otabek nods, and JJ is laughing again.

“Of course. You’re a man with more morals than me and Yuri,” JJ speculates. His hand finally leaves his thigh, and he leans back on his hands on the ottoman, “Still not enough morals to be above a job like this.”

Otabek shakes his head, “I don’t have many morals,” he informs him, and JJ looks thoughtful at the comment.

“So what stopped you then? Fear? Did you think I would come here and kill you if you even so much as laid a hand on my boy?”

Otabek’s eyebrows furrow. He listens for the hair dryer. It’s still there and oddly comforting.

“And don’t try to say you don’t like him like that,” JJ continues, “I saw the way you looked at him that first day we met,” he smirks, “Just like I saw how you were looking at me just moments ago.”

The hair dryer stops, Otabek let’s his eyes move to the hallway that leads to Yuri’s bedroom.

JJ taps his cheek to get his attention again, “Why didn’t you make a move, Otabek?”

“Fear,” Otabek admits, and JJ nods in understanding.

“Of course, makes perfect sense. You thought you would lose your job, maybe even your life. And no one, not even Yuri, is worth that, right?”

“Not for myself,” Otabek corrects him, “At first, yeah, but then I started to see Yuri as a friend, someone that I wasn’t just paid to protect but that I  _ wanted _ to protect. So if I were to be fired or killed or whatever, who’s to say you’ll get someone to protect him when I’m gone? Or that you won’t take your anger at the situation out on him? It’s been awhile since I had someone I wanted to protect like that, so I wasn’t about to ruin it because I thought they were hot.”

The glint in JJ’s eye is gone, as is the smirk. In it’s place is a sad, empty expression.

“You’re in love with him,” JJ tells him, quiet a little throaty.

Otabek shakes his head. He’s never been in love. He isn’t sure he has the ability to love someone romantically like JJ is suggesting, “I just care about him,” Otabek corrects him.

JJ scoffs, “You’re willing to put his needs in front of your own, willing to make yourself suffer -- because, yes, starving yourself of a mutual attraction  _ is _ suffering -- just so you know he’ll be safe. That doesn’t sound like love to you?”

Otabek’s about to argue but the sound of a door opening stops him. Yuri comes out into the living room, brushing his just dried hair and dressed in his usual loungewear. He gives the two of them, sitting so close, a short perplexed look, but he doesn’t dwell on it, choosing instead to sit himself on the couch and continue brushing his hair.

JJ gives Otabek one last private smile before taking a seat next to Yuri.

“Can I?” he asks him, gesturing towards the brush in the blonde’s hand. Yuri nods and hands it to him, allowing him to continue brushing the golden mane.

It also allows for Yuri to focus his attention on Otabek. His emerald eyes look at him with a soft gaze. 

It’s odd to see him and JJ interact so quietly. JJ’s calm, with even breaths and a small smile on his face as he brushes Yuri’s hair. Otabek’s reminded of the ASMR videos an old roommate used to watch. He guesses this is similar. 

He goes to sit next to Yuri, his movements cautious as to not disturb the silent environment. 

“Otabek only stayed away because he thought he’d lose his job,” JJ tells Yuri. His voice is barely above a whisper, “Thought you should know in case you were offended,” he chuckles, and Yuri rolls his eyes.

Yuri reaches out his hand and Otabek places his in it, smiling when his long fingers squeeze around him.

They sit in the comfortable silence a little longer, interrupted when JJ places the brush down and stands.

“I would love to watch,” he tells them both with a grin. There’s no evidence of his earlier vulnerability, “But sadly I have work to attend to today, so I’ll give you two some privacy.”

Yuri is silent until the door closes behind JJ.

“What did he say to you?” Yuri asks, folding his knees under him on the couch.

Otabek smiles at him, “He told me that you liked me. And then he kissed me.”

Yuri’s nose wrinkles, “That shithead,” he comments, and Otabek scoots closer, lets himself rest his head on Yuri’s shoulder.

It was strange to be alone with Yuri now, knowing that there were no consequences to them being together. He could finally have Yuri like he wanted. It didn’t seem real.

He feels Yuri nuzzing against the top of his head and sighs at the gentle touch. 

“So now that you know that my mob boss boyfriend won’t have your head for sleeping with me,” he pauses, giving Otabek time to look up at him, “Would you like to join me in bed?”

The smile Yuri’s wearing is ridiculous. Like he’s trying to be mischievous and teasing, but he’s too happy so it just comes off as a dumb grin.

But Otabek can’t judge. He feels the same way.

“I would love to,” Otabek answers him, and Yuri wastes no time shooting off the couch and leading them to his bedroom. 

Yuri is peppering him with kisses the moment they enter the room.

“You’re being oddly affectionate,” Otabek comments, and Yuri rolls his eyes.

“I’m affectionate when I want to be. When I’m not then you can sod off, but if I am then you better give me just as much attention back.”

Otabek nods, crowding in on him to lead them over to the large king-sized bed. This is the first time Otabek’s been in his room. It’s pretty similar to Otabek’s own, just a little larger and with a couple more personal effects. 

Yuri lets himself fall onto the bed readjusting himself lazily as Otabek climbs over him.

He doesn’t kiss him again, instead choosing to gaze down at him. His hair spreads out on the bed nicely, some strands ruffling up under him and getting in his face. The smile on his face is lazy and playful now, with eyes that say the same. 

He looks so comfortable, so vulnerable, and he’s trusting Otabek with this version of himself. He’s  _ happy _ to be trusting Otabek with it. 

“You’re beautiful, Yura,” he tells him, leaning into the pale hand that reaches up to cup his face, “I know everyone tells you that, but you deserve to be reminded.”

“It’s different when you say it,” Yuri tells him, he’s letting his finger trace his cheekbone now, mapping out his face with his fingers and his eyes.

Otabek doesn’t have to ask for Yuri to take off his shirt, he’s already peeling off the garment underneath him, following with his pants.

There’s no finesse, no teasing, it’s not a performance. Otabek doesn’t need a performance, but he did want a better view.

He puts a hand over Yuri’s rib cage just to see his hand on him. The pale skin contrasts nicely with Otabek’s tan, and it’s a vivid picture with the light spilling in from the windows. Otabek’s thankful he gets to see him like that, with the sun shining in on them, illuminating Yuri’s pale skin and golden hair. 

It’s so much better than dim motel lights, so much better than a dark one-night stand clouded in darkness. He likes being able to see Yuri this clearly.

“You too,” Yuri reminds him, and Otabek nods before climbing off the bed and undressing. Yuri props himself up on his shoulders and watches, an appreciative smirk forming on his face when Otabek peels off his boxers, “You can do the honors for me,” Yuri teases, and arches his hips up to let Otabek peel off his underwear.

He can’t stop himself from giving Yuri’s privates the same treatment as the rest of his body. He’s uncircumcised, unlike Otabek, and slowly getting hard. His size isn’t anything to boast about, but it’s a nice proportion to the rest of him. The hair that gathers there isn’t blonde, but it’s still quite a bit lighter than Otabek’s own body hair. 

The difference excite him. It makes it all the more special to touch him, something so foreign and unlike himself. 

He’s beckoning for Otabek to come closer, and Otabek obliges without a single thought, laying back on the bed with him with their bare skin touching. He lets his hand wander his torso once again, feeling the impossibly soft skin under his calloused hand. 

The quiet sighs Yuri lets out suggest he appreciates the subtle scratches his rough skin gives him, and it reminds Otabek of the bruises and marks he always saw on Yuri when he had a night with JJ.

“Do you want me to hurt you like he does?” he asks, and Yuri seems to find his question amusing. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he tells him, “Just don’t be too gentle. I know I’m soft and all that, but I’m not as breakable as everyone seems to think I am.”

“I know you’re not breakable,” Otabek breathes out, watching his hand go down to slowly stroke Yuri’s cock.

Yuri sighs appreciatively.

“You’re strong,” he reminds him, “Beautiful and strong.”

He continues jerking him off, enjoying experimenting with his touches to see what makes Yuri gasp or squirm. Fingernails dig into his chest and eventually push him away. 

“I’m not cumming from just a handjob,” Yuri tells him. 

Otabek laughs, “You say ‘just a handjob’ as if you weren’t enjoying it.”

Yuri climbs on top of him, “What?” he asks, “You want me telling you how great your fingers are and begging you for more?”

Otabek smiles up at him, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he admits and then gasps when Yuri grinds their dicks together. He’s graceful and fluid as he works himself against Otabek’s cock, showing off his skills he still has from a past of dance.

They move against each other like that for a while. It becomes easier and easier as the precum acts as lube, but eventually Yuri moves back, resting on his knees above his thighs.

His hand reaches down to Otabek’s cock, but the tug that Otabek’s expecting never comes. Instead he merely gathers up some of thin precum on a long finger and brings it to his mouth, sucking the finger in shamelessly.

Otabek swallows at the action. Yuri smirks. 

“Want me to suck you off?” he asks, and Otabek considers for a second before shaking his head. 

“Lay back down, Yura,” he suggests, and watches Yuri as he obediently climbs off of him and flattens himself against the bed again. 

Otabek sits up and spreads his legs apart, letting his hands hover over the pale thighs Otabek had spent too many nights thinking about.

He ghosts a finger over the light dusting of hair on his inner thighs and watches how Yuri shivers at the sensation. 

And then he lays himself down in front of him, pressing kisses into the soft skin, working his way up to Yuri’s cock. He takes his balls into his mouth first, rubbing his tongue against the skin and breathing in Yuri’s scent. His hands hold Yuri’s thighs apart, fingers digging into the soft skin. 

Yuri lets out a small whimper when he licks his way up his shaft. He jerks him off for a bit before adding his mouth to the mix, swallowing him down and listening to the way Yuri’s breath shakes and quivers.

He pulls off too soon, knows by the way Yuri keens at the loss of the weight heat and whines when Otabek goes back to peppering his thighs with wet kisses.

“Jesus, Otabek,” Yuri whines, “Enough with the teasing.”

Otabek laughs, coming back up to be eye-level with Yuri and kiss him. He hopes Yuri can taste himself in his mouth, hopes he can taste his own arousal.

“Will you fuck me?” Yuri asks, as if he was asking Otabek to grab something from the kitchen or any other mundane task.

He kisses Yuri again before responding, “Anything you want, Yura.”

Yuri instructs him as to where the lube is, and Otabek pauses when he opens the mentioned drawer. The lube is there, but it’s surrounded by an impressive collection of sex toys and accessories. He looks back at Yuri to see him sitting up on the bed with a smirk.

“See something that interests you?” he asks, and Otabek’s mouth is too dry to respond immediately. 

“I just want you right now,” he tells him, but he can’t help but imagine Yuri’s pretty pink lips around a ball gag covered in drool. 

He’s glad to see his reply doesn’t disappoint Yuri.

“Condom?” he asks, and Yuri shakes his head.

“Are you clean?” he asks, and Otabek nods.

“Then no need,” Yuri tells him, “I like feeling the cum drip out of me,” he admits, the blush that had left with Otabek returning to his cheeks.

He watches Yuri scoot up to the edge of the bed and pull his legs back to give Otabek access to his puckering pink hole.

Otabek admires him for a bit, before pouring a decent amount of lube into his hand and getting his fingers slick with it. The first one isn’t much of a stretch. Yuri’s clearly used to this; he knows how to make it easier for both of them.

 

He adds the second only seconds after, finally feeling the resistance of the muscles there. He works him open slowly, gently, until he can’t wait and he has to have more of himself inside the tight heat.

The third finger stays for only moments before Yuri’s whining in impatience that Otabek was trying to suppress. 

“Almost,” he comforts Yuri, breath hitching at the sight that greets him when he finally lines himself up against Yuri’s hole. 

His chest and cheeks are a matching shade of pink, and his mouth is open giving Otabek a tiny hint of his pink tongue. Sweat’s now sticking a couple strands of hair to his face and shoulders, but Yuri doesn’t seem bothered by it. All he seems to focus on is Otabek as he slowly pushes into the tight heat.

They groan together when Otabek’s cock is fully inside him. Otabek feels his thighs quiver, and he lets his hands grab for purchase on Yuri’s thighs, pushing them down so Yuri can let his hands fall to his side.

“Move, Beka,” Yuri breathes out, and Otabek listens. 

He fucks into him, letting go of his self control and pouring all of his emotions and thoughts into his movements. He enjoys the simplicity of it. His hands on Yuri’s thighs, pushing them down as he thrusts into him, fucking him open. 

There’s nothing confusing in fucking like this, just the bliss that comes from letting go of your complicated thoughts.

Yuri’s cock bounces against his stomach, leaking onto his pale skin while Otabek watches with dark eyes.

He slowly realises he’s pushing Yuri away from him and further onto the mattress, so he pulls out for a moment to pull Yuri back down before entering him again.

The action seems to excite Yuri, and he snakes his hand past his thighs to jerk himself off in time with Otabek’s pace. 

Yuri rewards him with the treat of watching him cum, in sporadic bursts onto his stomach and chest.

The way he tightens around Otabek is all it takes to send Otabek over the edge as well.

He lets himself soften inside Yuri and pulls out before he lets go of his thighs. He almost grabs a tissue for Yuri but decides against it. 

Otabek likes the way Yuri looks with cum on his stomach and dripping down his thighs. It’s fitting with the disheveled look of Yuri that Otabek had seen every time after JJ left, but it’s much more satisfying to know that he’s the cause.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all comments are appreciated and give me an embarrassing amount of motivation to write fic.


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